Page 22 of Say I'm Yours
My stomach plummets because I know. I can feel it in my bones. He’s here.
Shit! There goes my brilliant plan. Now what do I do?
Another knock.
My heart races with each step I take. I can try to avoid him, but it won’t matter. He’ll find a way to see me, and I’m better off getting it over with.
With my hand on the handle, I release a deep sigh and open it.
Sure enough, there Trent stands. His hair looks slicked from being pushed back with his hands, it’s messy but styled, and his blue eyes are trained on me. The air shifts as he pushes forward, and I back step away from him. He’s faster, and before I can stop him, his arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me against his chest.
“Trent!” I start to protest, but his mouth crashes on mine.
My hands push against his chest, but it’s no use. He’s so much stronger than I am. I should try to fight him off. I think about stopping him, but instead of doing that, my hands are dragging him closer. I tangle my fingers in his hair and hold him tight. His tongue slides across my lips, and I open to him. He kisses me hard, rough, and with raw power.
I know I should stop him. I know I’m supposed to be getting ready for a date with another man, and I promised myself not more than two hours ago that I would move on. I know I should slap him and break the kiss. I know all this, but I can’t find the wherewithal to stop it. Everything we’ve ever shared floods back, and it’s too much. All I know is he’s touching me, and I never want this to end.
I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. And I hate him for reminding me.
His hands roam my body until he’s fisting my hair. He tugs my head back, exposing my neck as he licks and sucks against the tender skin. I moan as he nips beneath my ear.
“So beautiful,” he mutters against my skin before his mouth is on mine again.
We kiss more as I lose myself to him, and I somehow end up on my back with him on top of me. I inhale, taking in the musk scent mixed with passion. It’s everything I remember and more. Trent’s calloused fingers cup my neck as he pulls back. His eyes blaze as I try to catch my breath.
Trent’s voice is rough and filled with heat. “Yes and no? That’s what you respond? I thought I’d come by and remind you which was the right answer.”
His words bring me back to the reality that he doesn’t belong here anymore. We’re nothing, because he isn’t good for me. He’s the man that cuts me with the thorns that are wrapped around his heart. I don’t need any more scars from him.
“You can’t do this to me!” I slap his chest, and he leans up. “You selfish son of a bitch! You came to my house so you could what? Get in my head? Could you be any more of an asshole?” I start to yell and hit him again. “Get off me, you bastard!”
“Grace,” he tries to say as he rises. I’m off the couch in an instant, but he’s right behind me.
“No!” I spin and make contact again. “I hate you! I hate you so much! You have no idea how much this has eaten at me, and what do you do when you find out?”
“I came over and made sure you’d remember what we were. What you are to me. What we are to each other. You can fight me, Grace, you can keep trying to rid your heart of me, but I know you love me. I know it.”
Liquid fills my vision as I try to hold myself together. “And what about you? Huh? What about how you feel? You’re trying to mark your territory, but I deserve more than that!”
“It’s not like that,” Trent defends.
“That’s exactly what this is! Instead of groveling like you should, you find a way to hurt me more.” A tear forms, but I fight it back. I won’t cry in front of him anymore. This, though, it hurts. It’s as if he’s a child who doesn’t know how to use his words.
Trent moves closer, and I look at him, wishing things could be different. His hand brushes my hair back. “I never want to hurt you. Never, Grace. I see it now, I don’t deserve you.”
We both know that’s true. I don’t deserve to be treated this way, but there’s something that keeps me going back.
But like my mother said, I have a choice.
“Neither of us deserves this, which is why it has to be over.”
Trent touches his lips to mine, and I let him. The kiss isn’t full of passion or lust. It’s sweet and a little sad. “I won’t do this to you anymore. I’ll respect your wishes. I’ll let you go. Even if it’s the last thing I want to do. Promise me something, will you?”
I close my eyes to get my emotions under control. How can him giving me what I want hurt so much? This is what I asked him to do, but I feel like I’m on the verge of shattering. Loving him has been my entire life, and I don’t know how to give that up. “What?” I ask as I open my eyes.
“You’ll be happy.”
The tears that I fought back fall. “I’ll try.”
